GREENMAN COMBINES TRADITION AND MYTH WITH CONTEMPORARY ART

            GREENMAN COMBINES TRADITION AND MYTH WITH CONTEMPORARY ART

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (posted August 24, 2021)

Greenman is known among friends and fellow artists by that name only. Few people even question his ‘true identity’ since it’s the only name he answers to.

Yet Muleh Mbillo had a busy life before he found himself in a trance (or coma) and met the original Green Man years ago. In a chat with Weekender, he explains how this green man engaged him for several days, sharing so much wisdom that Muleh felt he wanted to be like him, wise, generous, and all-knowing.

Meeting a holy man in a dream didn’t feel out of the ordinary to Muleh. His family had introduced him to traditional seers or ‘mundu muue’ as they are called in Kikamba at an early age. “They also took me to see modern medical doctors, so I would know both traditional and modern practices. Then I could choose for myself,” he says. ”That’s why my meeting a [literally] wise green man in a dream didn’t feel peculiar to me,” he adds.

During DN LifeandStyle’s rendezvous with Greenman at Nairobi National Museum where he’s part of a group exhibition entitled ‘Disobedient Devices’, he explains more about his name.  “I didn’t just want to be like the green man. I wanted to be him, and that is how I acquired the name.”

Greenman shares the show with Joan Otieno of Warembo Wasanii, Moira Bushkimani of Brush tu Artists Collective and Dani Ploeger, a Dutch post-doctoral researcher from University of London. All four created art forms reminiscent of devices used traditionally in ritual practices. In addition, Joan, Dani, and Greenman created three short films to dramatize the way those devices were used historically. For instance, in ‘Reconstructive Prophesy’ Greenman takes on the role of a ‘mundu muue’ who uses his magical machine as a medium to receive divine counsel and then share it with his clients. In Joan Otieno’s ‘Medusa’s Coil’, it’s a snake that embodies powers her community traditionally revered. And in Ploeger’s The Cults’, the Dutch researcher dramatizes his interest in examining what he calls ‘the intersection between visual art and cultural studies in technology.’

The multimedia exhibition grew out of a connection Greenman made with Ploeger in 2016. “We’ve done several projects with Dani since then. Our current exhibition began with two workshops that took place in 2019,” Greenman recalls. “Those were attended by Joan and Bushkimani as well as several others.”

Among those others were several Western academics and artists who share Ploeger’s research interests. These have to do with trash and how Kenyans recycle waste into art. But more specifically, they were keen to understand how pre-colonial practices, traditions, and technologies could be reinterpreted in contemporary forms.

The challenge that the Dutchman posed to the Kenyans during the second workshop was to consider their cultural myths and traditional rituals as well as the technologies traditionally used to carry out those practices. Then let their imaginations go.

The fruits of that challenge are essentially what constitute the ‘Disobedient Devices’ exhibition. The three videos which were each scripted as science fiction by Greenman, Otieno, and Ploeger are being shown and repeated in a looped fashion, so one can watch all three in a matter of minutes once you reach the Creativity Gallery at the Museum.

The traditional technologies on display have been re-imagined and constructed’ using waste materials collected by the four exhibiting artists from the Dandora dumpsite where Joan normally scavenges all the ‘found objects’ used in her Warembo Wasanii studio in Ngomongo.

Greenman confirms that he made his traditional Akamba ‘technology’ from an old radio set that he found at the dump and then repainted using symbols he recalled from his first meeting with a mundu muue when he was a child.

“I was four years old when I went with my family to meet the mundu muue who performed a series of rituals and incantations for us. He also used his Nzevu (single stringed instrument) to create what I think was meant to be a spiritual bond between our family,” he says

That early encounter with a traditional seer never left Greenman, despite his studying mechanical engineering at Kenya Polytechnic. Instead, it led to his study of both traditional and mainstream religions and philosophies. Ultimately, that led him to translate his studies into the arts.

“I realized art was another way of tuning into Infinity,” he says. Art is also how he recreated the mundu muue’s mystical ‘radio set’ which is on display at the Exhibition.

Currently, Greenman is working with the Maasai Mbili Artists Collective.

 

 

NEXT GENERATION OF CONTEMPORARY AFRICAN ARTISTS AT CIRCLE ART

‘                  EMERGING’ EAST AFRICAN ARTISTS AT CIRCLE ART

            Seance by Sujay Shah at Circle Art Gallery

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (posted August 23, 2021)

In curating ‘Various Small Fires’ for Circle Art Gallery, Don Handah has defined an historic moment for a gallery that already has a tradition of bringing unknown (to the Kenyan public) artists from around the region to feature on its pearly white walls and floors.

In that same vein, Don has brought mainly Kenyan, but also Eritrean and Tanzanian artists to our attention in the gallery’s current show. But where he’s made something of a breakthrough is his choice to select young, relatively unknown artists, the kind who once might have been called ‘up-and-coming’. But ‘Small Fires’ features works that have been conceived by artists, mainly in the 20s, who are already creating works that are refined, polished, and purposeful.

                                                                                       Eddy Ochieng. The WAit II

Not that the 18 artists were ‘discovered’ by Handah. In fact, at least three of the Kenyans have already featured in previous Circle group exhibitions. They include Sujah Shah, Wanjohi Maina, and Florin Iki who, at 21 years, also happens to be the youngest of the lot. But the show does reflects Handah’s desire to assemble an exhibition that featured a fresh and fascinating variety of young artists’ works.

Admitting he had to do a bit of research to put it all together, I call his curating ambitious as well as risky business, because who knew if the public would appreciate his taste in relatively unknown painters, photographers, print-makers, and sculptors?

He has definitely assembled a mixed bag of media, techniques, subject matter, and genres. But those contrasts are one thing that gives the show its kinetic energy and power. For instance, at one end of the gallery, you will find four sassy women standing tall in the Eritrean painter, Nahom Teklehaimanot’s ‘My Beginning, my middle, my end’ 1. Meanwhile, at the other end and around a corner, you are unexpected struck by Sujah Shah’s playful dancers in his ‘Séance’. Both use deep, bold colors to capture the mood of their moments. Both bring an ineffable quality of vitality and energy that makes them come alive.

                                                                        Wanjohi Maina, Hawkers Republic XIII

Then there’s the hyper-realism of Eddy Ochieng, the figurative stoicism of Adam Masava’s and Wanjohi Maina’s everyday people, and the marvelous aluminum mannequins made by Austin Adika entitled ‘Butterflies and Roses’ (a series) and ‘Kaninja’

But in addition to all the figurative works, there are several abstract pieces in the show, like Anita Kavochy’s untitled works, Taabu Munyoki’s ‘’Does my hair make you uncomfortable’, Patrick Karanja’s Untitled etchings, and Tanzanian artist Winifrid Luena’s light-infused ‘Metamorphosis X which is a photographic print on paper.’

Even the textile art of Tanzanian Liberatha Alibalio’s piece, ‘Reflection 1’ might be considered abstract, but I personally admire it for its marvelous mix of textiles (satin and cotton) and techniques, such as stitching both by hand and machine as well as quilting to contrast the geometry of her appliqued forms.

                                                                                               Anita Kavochy, 

There are still-life’s in the show, like Wanini Kimemiah’s ‘Acetone Fire.’ And there are even surrealist works like Eritrean artist Nebay Abraha’s ‘Cobweb VIII and X’ which convey a sadness that might come from living in a land that’s seen too many years of war.

Handah clearly spent a good deal of time finding these artists. The internet must have helped, but given the relatively youth of these artists, he had to track a number of them down on foot.

I had seen some of their works in various places,” Handah told BDLife days after the show opened on August 11^th “Some, like the Eritreans, sent us their portforlios, while I met others when I was visiting Tanzania,” he added.

                                                 Biniam Afewerki, The Longing Moment VI

But clearly, tracking down all of these young Kenyans took a determination to bring something new to the gallery where he’s been working for the last four years. Before that, he picked up curatorial skills with support of the Goethe Institute. He worked in several art venues after that, and even spent some time, on his way to early learning about the history of the Kenyan art scene, interning at Paa ya Paa Art Centre with Elimo and Phillda Njau.

Why I feel the ‘Small Fires’ show is special is because it introduces a number of emerging artists to a wider public, a public that is increasingly coming to appreciate contemporary Kenyan and African art, but may have gotten too comfortable knowing the so-called ‘established artists’.The 18 at Circle Art cannot yet be classified so easily. But all are on the move artistically. They are East African artists to watch.

Small Fires’ is up at Circle Arts until September 10^th.

LIQUID ARTS PLAY ON INTER-ETHNIC WEDLOCK (OR WARFARE?)

                    INTER-ETHNIC WEDLOCK A TABOO OR NEW HOPE?

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (posted August 20^th, 2021)

Peter Tosh has a taste for tackling troubling social issues in his plays, like the topic that doesn’t go away, namely ethnicity or tribalism.

His latest tale treats tribalism like a superbug that gets handed down from one generation to the next.

Technically, Kenyans are supposed to be over ethnicity. Or at least the younger generation are. Yet will the elders allow the youth to violate tradition and culture, or not?

These are the issues theatrically raised by Liquid Art’s latest production, entitled ‘Katiba’ which premiered last weekend at Kenya Cultural Centre.

Brill (Stephen Mwangi) and Vanessa (Nora Adisa) are intent on getting married and their wedding is just two days away. But there are heavy-duty family forces that are dead-set against it .

The most adamantly opposed is Uncle Tim (Felix Peter) who can’t even be persuaded by his clever wife Rose (Polyann Njenga) to let the youngsters alone. Instead, Tim threatens his nephew that on no uncertain terms will the wedding take place. He doesn’t disclose what his sinister scheme could be, but his hostility is clearly unsettling for Brill.

Vanessa also has her own ferocious naysayer in her mother, Rukia (Vivian Nyawira), who has similar ethnic arguments to Tim’s. They are reinforced once her father (Peter Tosh) arrives. He too is deeply committed to his culture and time-honored traditions. But he also blames Rukia for ‘underfeeding’ Vanessa who is skinny ‘like a mosquito’, a term similarly used as an insult by Tim.

What is clear is that Tosh is trying to show us that these ethnic stereotypes, especially those opposing cross-cultural marriage, are deep-seated beliefs. ‘Katiba’, the play’s title, is actually a metaphor for a new type of ‘c

onstitution’ being sought by the youth. In an interview that Weekender had with Tosh last Sunday, he explained his metaphor.

“Just as we fought for a new constitution, but the one we got turned out to be no better than the old one, so the new notion of relationships [based on monogamy and romantic love] may seem to be a new and better way of constituting marriage. But really, is it any better than what couples had before?”

While his perspective sounds somewhat cynical, the second half of the play reveals what he means. For as the wedding hour draws near, the lovers reveal their anxieties about their parents’ opposition to their plans. Both are deeply in love, but clearly when their families are so ferociously against them, they are in limbo about what to do.

That is when Uncle Tim bursts into Vanessa’s house (how did he know where it was?) and viciously attacks the girl. His taunts are not only abusive to the bride to be. They are literally terrorizing and scary.

But thereafter, what comes out in an exchange between Brill’s Pastor Ben (Majestic Steve) and Uncle Tim is that Tim had once loved Rukia desperately, and she had felt the same way toward him. But at one critical moment, they had a misunderstanding that each took to be intentional. They had planned a late-night rendezvous. But both got lost and didn’t meet. Each took the event personally and they never saw each other again. The bitterness of that ‘betrayal’ is what has fueled both Tim’s and Rukia’s opposition to their offspring’s wedding. They had once been brave enough themselves to cross tribal lines to fall in love. But it hadn’t worked for them, so they fell back into familiar tribal territory rather than to reconcile and be friends again.

The finale scene is the wedding which looks hopeful since Rukia arrives with her girl, head covered in kangas as is a custom in some cultures. But when the cloths are lifted, and after Brill has gleefully sung “Just the two of us”, it’s revealed that the bride is not Vanessa, but Uncle Tim’s choice, Salma (Mary Muthee). At that discovery, Brill faints and that is The End.

What I found most interesting is that the house-full audience, like myself, had no intention of applauding then. We were waiting for what we anticipated to be the final scene, when Brill would go for Vanessa and their ‘new katiba’ would begin, when as Brill explained, they would be making their own rules. But that last scene never came. So the ending is inconclusive, but disappointing all the same.

                             Peter Tosh, founder of Liquid Arts Production and playwright, author of Katiba, plays Guka

Just as Tosh said, as long as elders oppose inter-ethnic wedlock, and until there’s a radical change in perspective, mixed marriage may continue to be a taboo.

SEBAWALI: FROM INVESTMENT BANKER TO VIBRANT VISUAL ARTIST

                SEBAWALI GOES SOLO AT NEW ART VENUE, LIFESTYLE

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (posted August 20, 2021)

Sebawali Sio had been quietly keeping a secret light deep inside her heart ever since she joined Loreto Convent Valley Road and saw her first painting by the acclaimed Kenyan artist, Peter Elungat.

“I thought I wanted to do something similar to what he does,” says the painter who is currently holding her first solo exhibition at the new arts venue, LifeStyle.

But for years, Seba wasn’t prepared to pursue a career in the arts.

“I did go to the State University of New York as a fine arts major,” she says, “but I only stuck with it for a year and a half. What happened? I guess I got scared,” she concedes.

Someone might have advised her to ‘be more practical’. But in any case, she cancelled that course and shifted over to the Sorbonne where she studied Art History and French civilization for a diploma. Not that those subjects were more ‘practical’. But this bright young woman was feeling her way.

Her next step was to pick up a scholarship and go study International Relations in Spain. It was another leap of faith to attend Schiller International University for two years where she got a Bachelor’s degree.

“All that time I was sketching on the side, but never taking my art seriously,” says Seba who continued to keep that secret light burning in her heart.

                                        Lisa Christoffersen and Sebawali at LifeStyle with Seba's two-sided glass art

Her good grades and another scholarship got her into the London School of Economics where she got a master’s degree in the odd combination of law and accounting.

“I joined a law firm for a time, but then shifted over to investment banking which is what I initially did when I finally came back to Kenya.”

Working in private equity for a time, Seba finally realized she couldn’t keep her heart’s desire a secret any longer. She had always wanted to be an artist, and at last, she decided to do what had been in her heart all this time.

On the day BDLife went to see Sebawali’s first solo show at Lisa Christoffersen’s new art and culture space, Lifestyle, Seba was almost reverential when she told us that Elungat had just come to see her show.

Hers is not the first art exhibition Lisa has had since this stylish, eclectic gallery opened up just a year ago. “We had a group show featuring Agnew Waruinge, Onyis Martin, Mary Collis, Coster Ogwang, and Anthony Russell,” Lisa recalls.

But Seba’s is Lifestyle’s first solo exhibition, an event where more than 50 mixed media paintings are hanging not just on the first and second floor walls of this former domestic abode. Seba’s art is also hanging gracefully from several trees around Lifestyle’s acre compound.

“I painted these [outdoor pieces] on watercolor paper and then encased them in two plates of transparent glass,” Seba says, noting they are essentially waterproof since the frames and the glass are sealed tight.

Entitled ‘Dedication: The Freedom Series’, Seba says she has been working on this series since early 2020. “But it wasn’t until Lisa encouraged me to have an exhibition here that I started preparing for this show,” she says.

Focusing on the theme of women, as were her previous exhibitions held with her fellow artists at Brush tu Artists Collective, Seba’s art has undergone several subtle yet significant changes over the last two years.

                                 She is still blending a rainbow array of colors as she works with mixed media, oils, acrylics, and ink. But what is strikingly different between then and now is that the women she previously painted (mostly from memory, then modified by imagination) were largely concealed behind a cloak of beautifully blended colors. One could see an eye or a lip emerging through the whirlwind of colors, as if the artist herself wasn’t quite sure if the time was ripe to declare herself an artist.

But now, most of her portraits have clearly come out from the rainbow array, and we can see their feminine features clearly defined.

“They are actually part of a new series I am currently working on,” says Seba who is not about to rest on her laurels. “It’s called ‘Your mind is like a prism,” she adds, noting that a prism separates white light into a wide spectrum of colors.

But the overall theme of this show is freedom, Seba explains as she stands beside her series of butterflies which have just emerged from their cocoons. They seem reflective of Seba’s own free spirit and emergence into the light.

KAMAL SHAH: INCOMPARABLE ARTIST WHO BRIDGES THREE CONTINENTS

“I’m beginning to see …how naturally and inevitably I have become an artist.”

                                                            Kamal Shah, October 1999

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (posted August23 2021)

Best known for being a painter, printmaker, textile designer, and award-winning mixed media (including digital) artist, Kamal Shah made that modest observation more than 20 years ago in Mumbai during the opening of his first solo exhibition entitled ‘Roots and Wings’ at the acclaimed Jehangira Gallery.

He would go on in subsequent years to confirm that humble estimation, not only by exhibiting in leading galleries and museums in India, UK and Denmark, as well as Spain, Germany, France and of course, Kenya.

He’d also win awards like the first prize [for mixed media] in 2006 at Kenya’s first juried Contemporary Kenyan Art Exhibition, organized by Kenya’s Ministry of Culture together with the Goethe Institute and Alliance Francaise. He’d even create commissioned artworks for clients including Commercial Bank of Africa, Kenya Airways, and others based in Dubai

But at birth, the so-called inevitability of Kamal becoming an artist was by no means apparent. The first-born son of a wholesale trader and a housewife was more likely to follow in his father’s footsteps and go into business or medicine or law like most respectful sons did, if they had the chance.

The chance that Kamal was given was education and the opportunity to attend a new kind of school in Kenya, one that stressed diversity and the integration of all kinds of Kenyans into one multicultural system that had a vision for Kenya’s bright new independent future. Hospital Hill had been created by an African, Tom Mboya, Asian, John Karmali, and European, Sir Derek Erskine to bridge the cultural gaps in the community, and in the process break down outmoded cultural practices like tribalism, racism and xenophobia.

In all those regards, HHS worked well for Kamal. “I consider myself a citizen of the world,” says the man who’s been bridging three continents for a good part of his life, first as a student, then as a globe-trotting nomad, and finally, as the quietly self-assured artist with intimate ties to Africa, India, and Europe.

Kamal sometimes describes himself as ‘self-taught’ artist since he never attended an Art College. Instead, he studied English Literature, History of Art, and Textile Design at the University of Leeds. In fact, he studied art both at Nairobi School (former the Prince of Wales) and at Hospital Hill.

But even before HHS, Kamal was raised in a household filled with women, two of whom were aunts taking classes to become teachers, As a seven year old, he delighted whenever they brought home art projects because he’d be shown how to do everything from painting and sculpting to knitting, and weaving. He’d play with paints, clay, wood, pencils and paper, all of which made an indelible impression on the little boy who fell in love with fine art.

“I think I’ve always wanted to be an artist,” he told Awaaz recently as we sat in his fifth floor flat in Parklands.

In fact, there were many other influences that shaped Kamal’s creative spirit. One was growing up in a house filled with music, especially classical Indian music which his father adored.

Another was the Orient Art Circle. “They used to bring over Indian artists to perform at the National Theatre. My father would often invite them to our home where they would perform right there in our living room,” Kamal recalls.

And in secondary school, he used to take private art classes with the English artist Keith Harrington, producing paintings that he occasionally sold at City Market through the help of his father’s friend, George Nthenge and Nthenge’s shop manager, Ancent Soi who was also ‘exhibiting’ and selling his art at Stall #1.

But despite all those early indicators that Kamal was destined to be an artist, (not a shopkeeper), he had to struggle to protect that artistic spark in his heart. Upon return from university, he was called to help manage the new family business. Rowland Ward was a novelty shop set in the heart of Nairobi’s CBD. Kamal conceded for a time, even turning the specialty shop into a part-time art gallery. But the family did him a favor when they decided to shut the shop down and leave him to get more involved in the local arts scene which he did.

Shortly after leaving RW, Kamal decided to start up his own Africana-styled specialty shop with his business partner, Esther Ndisi in 1982. As artistic director at Kichaka, he would gradually get closer to his goal of making his passion for art his first priority. That wouldn’t happen until he closed Kichaka in 1991.

It was tough shutting down two businesses in a decade; but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise since Kamal was now able to embark on what would become his most productive golden years of his artistic life. It was a time when he finally admitted to himself that he had always wanted to be an artist. And now was the time to do it.

Coincidentally, the Nineties was the decade that Kamal began spending time in India. His first trip there was as a teen on a tour with his family who, being third generation Kenyans, had few family ties to the sub-continent. But Kamal went back after university and found the art scene in Goa especially vibrant and cosmopolitan. “It was also quite reasonable living so I would go and stay two or three months at a time,” he recalls.

Kamal was even able to set up a temporary studio wherever he stayed. There he would paint all day, and attend art shows at night.

“Eventually, I started having exhibitions at several galleries in Goa. I even applied to exhibit in Mumbai’s top tier art gallery, which is the one where I exhibited “Roots and Wings,” he says.

Interspersed with those trips and shows on the sub-continent, Kamal came home regularly to take part in a range of solo and group exhibitions in Nairobi, either at Alliance Francaise, the National Museum and Gallery Watatu or UNEP. He also had major exhibitions in Denmark, UK, and India.

Slipping into the 21^st century saw Kamal’s artistic energies only ramp up as his art became the bridge uniting East and West and centered in Kenya. He continued exhibiting everywhere from London, Paris, and Arhus in Denmark to RaMoMa in Nairobi, The Old Bishops Palace in Goa and Diani Beach at the Kenya Coast.

The stream of exhibitions has slowed down significantly since the arrival of COVID-19 and the ensuing lock-downs.  But Kamal has managed to accommodate the shift to online artistry. He’s temporarily discarded his oils and acrylic paints even as he picks up his IPad Pro and Apple pencil which now constitute his digitalized art materials.

“I try to keep up with this digital stuff as best I can,” says Kamal as he doodles while he talks. He also illustrates how easily one can create digital art if they have the heart and mind for it.

Currently creating a series of digital artworks, Kamal is holding off before showing them around.

“Right now, no one is sure how to value works of digital art,” he says. But he is prepared to be patient, to wait and see. Otherwise, he spends large chunks of his day just experimenting with the various programs in color, line, brush, texture, design, and perspective that are included on his iPad. So in a sense Kamal has come full circle.

“I am an experiment,” he once told Catherine Ngugi whose story on ‘Kenyan Artists Narratives’ appeared in the second edition of Kwani!

As the only one of his siblings who went to Hospital Hill (the rest went through the Jain/Oshwal system of education), Kamal was his family’s globalized experiment. He has always seen his education as the key that opened his mind to creating art that has ranged from the abstract to the figurative and onto a mix of fantasy, mythology, and esoteric mysticism.

“I like leaving a little that’s enigmatic in my art,” says Kamal with a twinkle in his eye. He clearly enjoys the idea of his art being slightly elusive, esoteric.

Otherwise, Kamal explains there is nothing terribly complicated about who he is. He is an artist and that is who he is.

SUBIRA THE MUSICAL LOOKS AT LOVE IN TIME OF COUP TRIALS

      ATTEMPTED COUP OF 1982 SHATTERS LOVE STORY IN NEW MUSICAL

                 Sweetheart Lukalia (Mundawarara Shaun) and Subira (Nice Githinji) costar in Subira the Musical

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (posted 10 August 2021)

Subira A New Musical’ is a first-class heart breaker. It is also a beautiful love story between two innocents who steal your heart from the moment you hear the dazzling voices of Zimbabwean Mundawarara Shaun and Kenya’s own Nice Githinji, and see the loving looks in each other’s eyes as they promise to be eternally faithful.

Award-winning Ugandan playwright, lyricist and co-director Adong Judith definitely has a sweet way with words, and especially with the love songs that provide the essential theme of Subira’s story.

Adong also must have a marvelous rapport with her fellow Ugandan composer-multi-instrumentalist Kaz Kasozi since they are billed as having mutually created the music for Subira. And since the lyrics and music match so effectively in mood, rhythm, and sentiment, their collaboration is a key element in the show’s indisputable success.

                                 Lukalia (MUNdawarara Shaun) sings praises for his sweetheart Subira (NIce Githinji)

The choice of other voices besides the lovers was also critical to ensure Subira’s story came out clearly, both in spoken word and song. In this too, the show never gave us one note that was off key or one character who couldn’t sing melodiously. The two most notable vocalists were Mundawarara and Nice. (We have seen Nice in many productions in the past, but never knew she had such a luscious singing voice until now!) But even Gilbert and his recruits projected powerful voices. Also, the chorus which came on several times was all pitch-perfect.

The choreography was imaginatively staged. In particular, the training scene of Army recruits, conducted by the strict Afande Mo (Gilbert Lukalia who co-directed with Adong), added a surprising element of levity (enhanced by the antics of Muthure Andrew) to an otherwise sobering experience, namely prepping for war.

In fact, despite its length of three and a half hours, Subira held our attention easily, given the professionalism of the cast, the richness of the story, the proficiency of the band, and the diversity of musical styles that Kasozi features in the show, from the blues, rap, and reggae to mellow ballads and love songs. Nonetheless, the show was too long.

Whether the songs should have been shortened, or a few cut out, the show needed a paring down. Perhaps Adong included too many nonessential stories, like the sweeper in Lukalia’s hotel or the sudden death of one Army recruit or even the number of drills that Afande Mo put his new recruits through. Some seemed to distract from the fundamental theme of Lukalia getting back home to his sweetheart, Subira.

There are actually two central themes to the musical, namely Lukalia’s love for Subira and his life-long dream of joining the military. But in the story, what he hasn’t banked on is the attempted coup in 1982 by members of the military, including his best friend and fellow recruit, Alusa (Ouda J. Charles). What’s worse is the way Lukalia gets blamed for being part of the coup attempt when he hadn’t been. Jailed unjustly for several years, Lukalia never forgets his love for Subira. But after he’s finally released from prison, he learns earth-shattering news.

                                 Gilbert Lukalia (L) as Afande Mo was also codirector of Subira with Adong Judith

Should I disclose it and be a spoiler? It’s such a shocker, I can’t ignore the horrifying fact that Alusa had persuaded Subira that Lukalia is never coming back. Betraying his one-time buddy, he lies that Lukalia is probably dead since he’d gotten caught and deemed a kingpin in the coup attempt. He even claims Lukalia had tried to involve him in the plot, which was the exact opposite of the truth.

Alusa is so persuasive, he even gets Subira to marry him and have his kid. So by the time Lukalia gets home, he finds his Subira pregnant by his former best friend.

Discovering Subira is ultimately a tale of sabotage and betrayal, not just love, hope, and life’s future possibilities, is tragic for some of us, especially as we got so deeply invested in the love story itself. But the emotional jolt is what Adong and her co-director Gilbert Lukalia must have wanted their audiences to feel. In this is their success since we still found Subira riveting and deeply moving.

                             (R-L) Mundawarara Shaun, Gilbert Lukalia (behind), Nice Githinji, and Ouda J.Charles

Without doubt, Subira needs to be shortened. It’s a painful truth that Adong Judith may not want to hear. But being the playwright, lyrist, and co-director means there might not have been room for an editor, critic, or producer to tell her the painful truth. But irrespective of the length, Subira is a beautiful and bitter-sweet story that also conveys the way Pan-African energies can work together to create a bright view of African artistic expression.

 

WAMBUI COLLYMORE'S ART CONTESTS CONCEPTS OF AFRICAN BEAUTY

                CONTESTED CONCEPTS OF AFRICAN BEAUTY AT ONE OFF GALLERY

      Wambui Collymore in her Pink Room, part of her Akili Ni Nywele installation at One Off Gallery

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (published 8 August 2021)

‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.’

It’s an idiom we often hear as one way to define the concept of beauty.

Yet in her art installation, currently on at One Off Gallery entitled ‘Akili ni Nywele–Series III’

 Wambui Kamiru Colleymore calls into question both the concept of ‘beauty’ and its practice by African women. More precisely, she explores how African women and other women of color are affected by society’s definitions of beauty and the broader theme of femininity.

For instance, who defines what constitutes Black beauty and femininity? And where did these concepts come from in the first place.

Where do African girls pick up Western concepts of beauty and Feminity? From 2nd hand Barbie dolls

These are concerns most women heading to the hair salon probably don’t give a second thought. But Wambui wants black women to look more critically into something she calls the politics of femininity. For her, the stakes are high.

“I want women to be free to choose how they look and not feel dictated to by society,” she says.

Speaking to DN Lifestyle shortly after her exhibition/installation opened on July 31st, Wambui recalls that she had started back in 2017 in a previous installation to raise the issue of Black femininity, who defines it, how, and why? Back then, this Oxford University African history master’s graduate explored the way young girls are socialized from an early age to imbibe Western concepts of beauty, romantic love, and blond-haired, blue-eyed standards of femininity represented in the shape of second-hand Barbie dolls.

“Society as a whole defines what African women [and girls] are meant to do to be beautiful and feminine,” says Wambui. To illustrate that point, one whole room in the gallery presents a similar representation of her 2017 show. As before, (only on a much larger scale) she paints the room pure pink, which, of course, is the stereotypic color symbol for feminine. It has a bookcase-filled with romantic novels and a whole shelf filled with mitumba white Barbie dolls. The room also has a matching pink ‘vanity’ table complete with a mirror and pictures of ‘pretty’ little white girls who invisibly plant foreign concepts of beauty in little black girls’ minds.

       How much trouble and expense to women take to look glamorous, according to Western taste?

Wambui even created a carpet made out of real and artificial wavey long hair, the type she says that wealthy Black women (since human hair is pricey) stitch or glue onto their African hair.

To illustrate how wearing human hair, either in the shape of a wig or glued-on extensions, Wambui had two professionals, one a makeup artist, Nzilani Kimani, the other a photographer, Emmanuel Jambo help her illustrate the extent to which women will go to meet Western standards of beautiful.

But what makes us believe Wambui looks more ‘beautiful’ wearing a human hair weave and perfect make up?

To challenge the belief that artificial hair is somehow superior to natural African hair, Wambui takes over another One Off room, the Loft, to screen a seven minute split-screen video. One side of it reveals Wambui in a bathroom surgically cutting off her long artificial braids layer by layer. She’s symbolically silenced with a red tape across her mouth, removed only after all the artificial hair is gone. The other side is set in the same bathroom, only now all we see are her feet and the sliced braids fallen to the floor. In sum, the video suggests that the braids, being alien, were also depriving her of her own power to speak and think freely. To confirm that conclusion, Wambui returns in the video wearing a turban towel which she removes to reveal her natural hair and a freshly washed face that looks equally attractive but more authentic than the bewigged Wambui.

Hair plays such a major role in urban African women’s lives, they can frequently spend hours at the Salon having their hair either braided, chemically-straightened, or extended with human or artificial (plastic) hair pieces.

That reality led Wambui to curate one final room (the biggest one in One Off’s former Stable) which she fills with all the paraphernalia one can find in the best upmarket beauty salons. All painted a bright shiny silver, she includes one large table display of essential tools used by the best hair stylists, namely the hand-held hair dryers, brushes, curlers, combs and even hot combs. She even brought in three second-hand sitdown hairdryers to illustrate just how industrialized the African women’s hair industry is.

Wambui's PInk Room has a Human Hair carpet just to illustrate how women wear human hair wigs and extensions as signs of wealth and 'beauty

But if African hair has generated a huge industry of hair, Wambui suggests there is also a politics of hair that Black women need to understand.

There is nothing naturally beautiful about wigs and weaves, Wambui’s show seems to say. Women and girls have been socialized to believe that standards of beauty and femininity are the norm without realizing they are actually colonial hangovers. Once they understand that, they can be free to choose for themselves how they want to look and how they define what is beautiful, both within and without themselves.

“I want my daughters to grow up making up their own minds how they want to look and be,” says Wambui who quotes the Kiswahili proverb to summarize what her show means to her:

“Akili ni  nywele, kila mtu ana zake. (Intelligence is like hair, everyone has their own).”

 

 

ZIHAN CURATES SOME OF NAIROBI'S BEST AT ORGANIC MARKET FOR KSPCA

KSPCA GETS BIG BOOST FROM LOCAL ART SHOW

By Margaretta wa Gacheru (published in BDLife 6 August 2021)

Ever since the Organic Farmers Market moved over to the grounds of the KSPCA, (Kenya Society for the Protection and Care of Animals), the place has become much more than a food court where people can not only buy chemical-free fruits and vegetables, fresh flowers and cheese. It’s also more than an open-air market adjacent to grounds filled with rescued animals, all ripe for adoption.

OFM is a place where people come to relax and unwind with friends over cups of herbal tea, red wine, kumbucha, or honey beer.

It was the Market’s manager Dennis Andaye’s idea to try something new by inviting Zihan Kassam to curate an art exhibition cum fundraiser for KSCPC, an event that just opened this past Friday night with the artists and the animal lovers all present.

Zihan is best known for being an artist herself. But she has also been an art critic, consultant, and curator who’s organized shows everywhere from private homes to the Kempinski Hotel.

With that sort of experience, it was a breeze for her to assemble some of Nairobi’s well-established painters and sculptors to participate and donate a percentage of their art sales to the esteemed animal refuge.

“I invited artists who I’ve known either since I had my studio at Kuona Trust, or since I wrote about them for various publications, or showed their art in previous exhibitions that I’ve curated,” Zihan told BD Life just hours before the show’s opening.

Some of the works being shown under Zihan’s open-air canopy are not new. But that doesn’t diminish the value of early works like Paul Onditi’s adventurous alter-ego Smokey, Lemek Sompoika’s paper collage, Nadia Wamunya’s evocative nudes or even Dennis Muraguri’s matatu prints. Instead, one appreciates the way ‘Anima’ (Zihan’s title) has allowed a sculptor like Chelenge van Rampelberg to bring out her first and most treasured wood sculpture which hasn’t been seen outside her studio since the 1980s.

But there are lots of new works in the exhibition as well, including one specially commissioned for ‘Anima’, a concept Zihan associates with the interconnectedness of all living things. Michael Musyoka’s massive 20 feet by eight feet flower-filled mural is a warm and welcoming way to arrive at the showcase.

“It’s meant to be the centre piece of the show,” Zihan tells us proudly. But then, she is clearly pleased with the other new pieces in the exhibition by painters like Michael Soi, Shabu Mwangi, Boniface Maina, Onyis Martin, Wycliffe Opondo, and even the relative newcomer to the local art scene, the sculptor Chris Miruka.

It’s rare to see assembled such a strong selection of local artists, 14 of whom are Kenyans and one, Nimrod Hanai, a Nairobi-based Tanzanian. All are visual storytellers with none quite so serious as Shabu Mwangi whose ‘Life of a Boxer’ reminds us of the pain necessarily endured to achieve the heights of success. In contrast, Michael Soi presents three apolitical pieces, each one featuring his classic African beauty set in bright, idyllic scenes. Boni Maina’s avatar man looks like another adventurous alter-ego, enjoying life and inviting you to join him. Onyis Martin brings an abstract austerity to Anima with a densely darkened piece that keeps us wondering what’s going on in the dark? Meanwhile, Munene Kariuki presents one COVID-conscious masked man who’s being dutiful but dulled by the lockdown. Otherwise, Wycliffe Opondo’s style of sign-writing brings a welcomed sense of joy to this show, creating graphic jokes that most everyone can understand and enjoy.

Unlike many group shows seen around the town, Anima’s sculptures are among the most show-stopping pieces in the display. By far, it is Chris Miruka’s life-sized scrap-metal sculptures that engage public attention the most. Seeing his horse and buffalo, each dressed in a silver sheen and carefully crafted with anatomical precision is an attraction that gives Anima its manifest meaning. For in spite of Miruka’s art medium being metallic, his sculptures embody the ‘Anima’ theme of how interconnected are relations between man, animal, earth and the elements. (It’s no wonder both sculptures were the first works sold, with 70 percent of sales going to the artist and 30 percent to KSPCA.)

Meanwhile, Irene Wanjiru’s rugged stone and wooden sculptures share a similar ‘anima’ expression of interconnection. But she adds a further attraction in that she brings the show across the grounds to her Stone Soup Café where you can have a wholesome Kenyan meal while still enjoying her stone sculptures scattered all around the Cafe.

Anima is up at KSPCA through August.

 

 

 

MOTHERS FIGHT FOR SOCIAL JUSTICE

                      From Victims to Community Defenders’

By Mothers of Victims and Survivors Network

Reviewed by Margaretta wa Gacheru

How long can our Kenya government and the international community turn a blind eye to the impunity, cold-blooded criminality, and sheer human cruelty of our national police?

That is the question one has to ask after reading the new book by the Mothers of Victims and Survivors Network entitled ‘From Victims to Community Defenders.’

Published as a project of the Mathare Social Justice Centre, the book encapsulates countless horrors enacted by officers ostensibly employed to protect members of the public. But in reality, they do the exact opposite

The book features 35 tragic stories of impunity, including the daylight murders of the mothers’ sons and husbands, nephews and cousins. There are also a few fathers and brothers who have joined the Network, usually after having had a loved one ‘disappeared’ or reappeared in the mortuary without fanfare.

The stories, accompanied by photographs of survivors by the British photojournalist Ed Ram, might seem unthinkable since the sheer lawlessness of the police makes the Mafia look like Boy Scouts. It’s the first-hand accounts of the Mothers Network that give the book its credibility and also advance MSJC’s agenda to document what are known as EJEs, ‘extra-judicial executions’ in Kenya’s informal settlements.

Such stories cannot help but arouse human sympathy for these indefensible daily deeds that go on around the clock in Nairobi’s informal settlements as well as in other urban centres around Mombasa, Kisumu, Nakuru and elsewhere. The stories are also meant to serve as documented evidence that can hold up in court when MSJC and the Mothers file cases against the police.

But if the book doesn’t convert the reader into also becoming a ‘community defender’ him/herself, which it could do, then one can visit the Circle Art Gallery where professional photographer Ed Ram has taken and displayed a series of striking portraits of many of the women and men who are members of the Mothers Network. Circle Art is also one venue where the book is for sale. Otherwise, they can be obtained at MSJC itself.

Most of Ram’s sharp black and white portraits convey the sense of tragedy, stoicism, and loss that these women and men have endured since the demise of their loved one. In some cases, mothers have lost more than one son. In others, if a son survived being shot, as in the case of 12-year-old Collins, he may be traumatized for the rest of his life. And often, the loved one who died may have also been the family breadwinner, which de facto has made the Mothers Network not just a source of solace and psychological comfort for the survivors. It has also become a means of sustaining those who have been left behind.

The one portrait in the book that conveys a courageous look of defiance, anger, and desire to fight back is that of Lucy Wambui, who coincidentally is the one who started up the Mothers Network in 2017. She has been spearheading the Network’s outreach ever since.

Lucy lost her husband Christopher Maina when she was eight and a half months pregnant and just days after they had moved out of Mathare and found a house in Githurai. But as he still had casual jobs near their old home, he had returned to Mathare on the fateful day that he died inexplicably at the hand of police. Lucy calls the man who killed her spouse a ‘serial killer cop’ and even names him in the book. But she has yet to see justice done on her family’s behalf.

If Lucy and the other 34 stories don’t touch your heart, then one must see the nine-minute video created by Ram for MSJC and being shown at Circle Art. It goes straight to the point and lays out the challenge that every person in the settlements face, apparently because they are poor, vulnerable, and easy prey for men who have gotten used to using their guns with impunity. But it does so as a clarion call to get involved after feeling the righteous indignation that is inescapable if one has an iota of feelings for the residents of Nairobi who deserve humane treatment from the police.

The beauty of the video entitled ‘MSJC: The Start of a Movement’ is that it captures the fearless spirit of Mathare youth as well as of MSJC. That spirit is best expressed by one of the MSJC researcher, Juliet Wanjira who says in the film, ‘When you lose your fear, They lose their power.’

MSJC was started in 2015 by Gacheke Gachihi.

 

LOCAL ARTISTS FLOOD PUBLIC SPACES WITH 'ART IN THE OPEN'

             LOCAL ARTISTS FLOOD VILLAGE MARKET WITH THEIR ART

By Margaretta wa Gacheru

Artists came in droves this past weekend to celebrate ‘Art in the Open’ at Village Market. More than 60 flooded both ends of one of Kenya’s first proper shopping malls with a wide variety of works.

Both old and new wings of Village were literally filled with contemporary Kenyan art. The scene wasn’t so much an exhibition as an eruption of artworks featuring mostly young, up-and-coming artists, like Sammy Soli, 18, who’s still a student in Thika at Mt Kenya University; Francis Muriithi, 24, whose role model is Leonardo di Vinci and who paints garden scenes on denim jackets and handbags; and Daisy Bilenzi, 25, who with Joyce Kuria, 27, and Husna Nyawira, 24, came to Village with not only paintings and prints, but also hand-painted fridge magnets, bookmarks, stickers, and pins.

There were several older, more established artists who exhibited as well, including Naftail Momanyi, who heads the Kenya National Visual Artists Association. “I came with a dozen of our members,” says the acclaimed sculptor who brought his own pieces, like the Kisii stone sculpture he’d entitled ‘Mutual Dialogue’.

Dennis Muraguri, (who also has his works in the ‘Anime’ exhibition at the KSPCA) is another well-established artist who showed his matatu prints and screen-printed bags at Village. His works were well-represented by his former intern and Kenyatta University graduate, Becky Bulimo, who displayed her miniature woodcut prints alongside his.

And even Daniel Njoroge, 67, the mature painter who several young artists said had inspired them to paint, was represented at Village by his son Elijah. “I was inspired by my dad, but I’m a graphic designer who prefers painting abstract works whereas his art is realistic,” says the son respectfully.

The vast majority of artists that BDLife interviewed on the last day of the four-day event identified themselves as ‘self-taught’. Yet once we suggested they must have been inspired by someone, they admitted they’d been mentored by more experienced artists, like Peter Ngugi, Patrick Mukabi or Michelangelo himself. A few referred to YouTube as their best teaching tool. While a few had diplomas or degrees from art schools like Kenyatta University, Creative Arts Centre, Buru Buru Institute of Fine Art or Mwangaza Art College in Kisumu.

The one thing they all had in common was an enthusiasm and passion for art. Most had exhibited before, in venues like Nairobi National Museum during the Affordable Art Fair, in commercial spaces like Tazama Gallery, and in other shopping malls like Sarit Centre which has a monthly weekend show similar to ‘Art in the Open’ only in Westlands, not Runda.

Several of the 60 exhibiting artists had shown their art in new art spaces that are small, struggling, but hopeful about their future prospects. These include venues like Studio Soko in South C and Kino Art Gallery.

“There are eight of us that started Kino Gallery because we wanted to try something new,” says Nephat Njihia, 25, a graduate of the now-defunct Creative Arts Centre. “We had thought of linking up with Banana Hill Gallery since we admire them a lot. But then, we decided to go it alone,” Njihia adds. “We also teach at Kino, since we want young people to be exposed and aware of the value of art as they grow up.”

One young artist who’s been inspired by Kino Gallery is Jimmy Mumbo who comes every month from Kwale County to show his art both at Kino and at Sarit Centre.

“It’s worth making the trip because I’ve been making a living with my art for several years,” Mumbo says.

And Mumbo is not alone. That is not to say, local artists are not struggling. But art rendezvous like ‘Art in the Open’ have enabled artists to survive the pandemic restrictions (by being outdoors and everyone wearing masks) and still earn a living.

“One way we’ve been surviving is by merchandizing our art,” admits Joyce Kuria who with Husna and Daisy aren’t the first local artists to find new and less expensive means of creating markets for their art.

Some make prints of their original works which they keep. Others like Joyce, Daisy, and Husna create personalized stickers, fridge magnets and bookmarks that most people can afford. Francis Muriithi hand-paints his art on denim bags and jackets. Muraguri does something similar only he screen-paints matatu images on his bags. So revenues may not pour in, but with patience and perseverance, many young and lesser known artists are making their way in the Kenyan art world.